


Beautiful Thing

by EmpiricalGirl (Caprittarius_Rising)



Category: Younger (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-30 05:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13943505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caprittarius_Rising/pseuds/EmpiricalGirl
Summary: Set immediately after the events in the Season 4 finale. Musings on what it might take to get Charles and Liza together already! I claim no ownership over characters or dialogue directly from the show.





	1. You Think That You Know My Heart...

“I’m in love with you, Liza.” 

For a long moment she just stared at him. He waited in agony, doubt and fear growing exponentially by the second. Tense silence clouded the air, threatening to chokehim. He was trying to inhale to speak when she got there first.

“I… I’m in love with you, too.” 

The pressure lifted, blood rushed back to vital organs and pounded in his ears in a release so dramatic his shoulders sagged. All the strain, all the worry and second guessing drifted away and for a second he felt giddy.

Until Liza burst into tears. 

He froze in total confusion, unable to process. Recovering, he couldn’t quite keep the smile from his face as he scooted closer to her on the couch and pulled her hands away from her face.

“Liza, what— Hey,” he soothed, pressing his lips to her hands, “this is a good thing, Liza. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She looked at him mutely, shaking her head. Happiness was plainly the furthest thing from her mind.

Something obviously wasn’t right. Residual tension settled back over him like dust.

_No, damn it, we’ve waited too long for this_. Whatever it was, he refused to let it ruin this moment. If nothing else, he wanted this moment to take with him.

“Tell me,” he murmured, brushing her tear streaked cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed her lightly, needing the contact to reassure himself that it was real, that he finally, _finally_ knew his feelings were reciprocated. It seemed to calm her hitching breath a little, so he cupped her chin gently and kissed her again, firm and warm but undemanding in a way that asked for trust.

Tentatively, her hands lifted to hold his face as she rested her forehead against his and held there, breathing in the moment with him. How long they stayed that way, he couldn’t have guessed.

Finally, Liza leaned back and regarded him gravely.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” she began, eyes still shining. “Something that might… change the way you feel about me.” Pushing up from the couch, she grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped her face before crushing the white square in her hand. The distance she put between them was deliberate.

Charles racked his brain, jumping to guess the nature of this bombshell. 

Was she pregnant with Josh’s baby? 

Did she decide she can’t date an older man no matter how she feels? 

Was she in witness protection or the CIA? 

Was her family in organized crime? 

_Did she used to be a man?_

Sometimes having a thousand book plots accessible in a vivid imagination wasn’t such a good thing. He battled back these irrational thoughts and tried to remain open minded. 

_Whatever it is… I love her._

“Okay.” Still, he had to admit this was starting to scare him a little. “Tell me.”

Liza drew a breath and held her hands pressed together up to her mouth for a moment as though praying, eyeing him miserably, reluctant. Then she clasped them in front of her, white knuckled as she exhaled heavily.

“Here goes nothing.” She was trembling as she squared her shoulders and shook out her hands. “There’s something about me that I’ve hidden— that I have lied to you and to pretty much everyone about since the moment we met. And Charles— I hope… I hope when I’m done, you’ll believe me when I say it’s the only thing I have _ever_ lied to you about.” At this, her gaze skittered away from his and she began to pace, looking like she was going to be sick.


	2. ... And You Probably Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching to Liza's viewpoint as she tells Charles the truth.

“I’m not really 27. I’m actually… Oh god… I’m 41.” She swallowed hard, noting the way his eyebrows came together, head drawn back in surprise. Just like Josh, his expression suggested he thought she was joking. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gripped her hands together again. She wanted it to be done so badly, to rip off the bandaid so the pain would be sharp but brief. 

_Who am I kidding… there will always be pain. It’s Josh all over again except… I can’t expect Charles to forgive me. It was a miracle Josh did. I’m about to be back at square one._

The words came to her faster as she spoke. “I had to lie about my age to get a job. No one would hire me as a 40 year old and after more than a dozen job interviews, I was desperate. I didn’t know what to do and Maggie suggested that I tell everyone I was younger. Harmless lie, right? There’s… more.” She couldn’t look at him now, afraid of what she’d see, knowing it would be awful no matter what. At the very least it would make him shut down and she hated seeing that happen to him, let alone being the catalyst.

“I was married… actually, I still am,” she grimaced, “because my ex ripped up the paperwork and thinks we’re going to work things out—“ she stopped. “I guess that kind of puts us both in the same boat, right?” She glanced at him briefly but didn’t meet his eye, not yet. 

_Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me._

“I really did go to Dartmouth for English Lit but I graduated in the 90s. That’s actually where Maggie and I were first roommates. I worked at Random House for three years right out of college a-and did really well there. I even— I made associate editor at 25.”

“But I… I also got married right out of college. And then…” She sighed heavily, her eyebrows drawing together. “I got pregnant.” Quickly, she peeked at him. He face was intent but behind it she could see the gears turning, the pieces coming together. There was no hatred or anger there. 

_Yet_.

“I ended up leaving the publishing world to raise m- my daughter, Caitlin.” She allowed herself a small smile, seeing the chubby baby she’d once held while trying to keep up with all the reading the job required. “For awhile I tried to do both the job I loved and be a new mom… It didn’t work; I was either lagging at work, missing out on Caitlin growing up, feeling exhausted all the time. Then, when Caitlin was still very young, my mom got diagnosed with cancer and she— died. At the time it seemed like a sign so I decided to put my family first and left publishing to be a stay-at-home mom in New Jersey.” Thinking of her daughter gave her a wave of renewed strength, a small bit of peace that steadied her as she finished. It helped to remember why she had done all of this.

“A few years ago, I discovered that David— my ex— developed a gambling habit I knew nothing about— _and_ he was having an affair with a blackjack dealer in Atlantic City. By the time it came out, he’d gambled almost our entire lives away, including Caitlin’s college fund. She’d already been accepted to NYU and was only months away from starting… and there was no money to pay for what student loans couldn’t cover. I was on the verge of bankruptcy and David had nothing to contribute. I didn’t want her to have to deal with that on top of the divorce. And she’s so smart… I wanted more than anything for her to be able to start college on time without worrying about money.

So I lied. I know I could have taken any job, I could have _actually_ worked at that department store in Paramus. I could have done something menial and lived a dull, colorless life for the sake of my daughter. Sometimes I think… maybe I should have. 

But I wanted more. I wanted to feel like _me_ again instead of the duped wife of a deadbeat husband who left for a younger woman. I wanted to return to an industry I’m passionate about _and_ be able to take care of my daughter. So I decided to make a last ditch effort to have both— and got hired as 26 year old Liza at my first interview.

It was selfish and wrong of me. I didn’t think it would even work and then it did! Then I met Josh and Kelsey and Diana and you and then Millennial began and suddenly the stakes were a lot higher. It’s part of why I tried to leave because I couldn’t stand the dishonesty of it anymore. I tried to disappear so none of you would ever have to know, and you could all go back to your lives… I have wanted to tell you so many times, Charles. Part of me wanted to that day in the mall. That’s why I said you wouldn’t understand.” She shrugged, feeling helpless and tired.

“But instead, I continued being selfish and came back to… continue lying to all of you.” Closing her eyes, all the shame and self-recrimination crashed down on her at once. It was worse than telling Kelsey. Charles’s face revealed almost none of his thoughts while Kelsey’s was an open book. It was hard to know whether he was absorbing her words at all. “I’m so sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me and I won’t ask you to. I don’t expect anything from you at all. If you hate me and never want to see me again, I’d completely understand. If you need to fire me, it’s still less than I deserve. But _you_ deserve to know the truth. I have always respected and admired you and I know how much you value truth and integrity. The stronger my feelings for you grew, the harder it was to be honest. I couldn’t bear to disappoint you— couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you or losing you. 

So yes — I am in love with you.” Pausing, fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “But I can’t ask you to take this on… that’s part of why I encouraged you to work things out with Pauline. It would have been so much easier for you. Because once you knew about me… it would only get more and more complicated. You deserve better and I couldn’t expect your feelings toward me to stay the same.” 

The ache in her chest intensified. How much would it take for him to fall out of love with her? None of this was any better than what Pauline had done to him when she left— clearly he didn’t love _her_ anymore. He said himself that he never thought he’d stop feeling angry about it and now Liza was hurting him all over again. 

He was still looking at her but now it was as though he regarded a stranger who just said something rude. 

_Say something_ , she willed silently. His gaze shifted slightly and she knew he was no longer seeing her. The past was playing though his mind like a movie that a has to be watched twice once the plot twist at the end is revealed. Everything appears in a different light the second time and all the foreshadowing seems so obvious.

“So many things… make a lot more sense now,” he breathed slowly. “It was _your_ prom song, wasn’t it?” A surprised burst of air escaped her. Of all the things to put together, that was not the first thing she imagined him asking about. She expected him to draw the immediate parallel between her life and _Marriage Vacation_ or realize that’s her age was part of why she was pseudo-dating Jay. Instead he remembered that night in the Hamptons. Wistfully, she realized she’d love to return to the magic of that night. Now she would just have the memory to cherish.

“Yeah… it was mine.” In another setting, it would have been funny. 

After a long pause he finally looked away, reeling from information overload. Leaning forward, elbows on knees, his brow knitted in bewilderment. She moved slowly to sit back down on the couch. As she did, Charles sprung up and stepped away. Her heart dropped; he didn’t even want to be near her. 

Facing away from her, one hand settled on his hip, the other rubbing his forehead. His agitation filled the room and brought up an impenetrable barrier between them. It was completely different than when they’d argued in his office. Then he’d been angry and hurt but open; now there were so many emotions swirling he couldn’t grasp any of them and he was shutting her out. His eyes shifted back and forth as he reviewed their history, trying to make sense of what he’d heard. She’d only seen him this visibly agitated a few times. The nerves she saw now reminded her of how he looked the first day Edward L. L. Moore came to town for the last _Crown of King_ s launch.

Like he couldn’t breathe. 

_Oh, no… He’s panicking. Shit. He’s going to leave._

Liza bit the inside of her cheek to keep more tears at bay. Such a response didn’t bode well for the longevity of either her career or their relationship. In a way, she wished he’d curse at her, berate her, fire her angrily— she deserved it. At least then it would be a clear ending with no loose ends— no what-ifs or could-have-beens. 

She wouldn’t have to wonder. 

Closing her eyes, Liza waited for him to make an excuse and bolt.

Charles cleared his throat, making her flinch. “I need to uh—- Um, do you have… Uh, is that— that the— the bathroom?” He indicated the only door that hadn’t been used, still not meeting her eye. Liza nodded, feeling a familiar splintering in her chest as he walked away and shut the door. 

_At least he didn’t leave_ , she tried to reassure herself. But she knew better. It was over, done and there was no reason to hold back the tears now.


	3. That's Why I'm Always With You

_What the hell just happened? If this is a dream, I need to wake the fuck up..._

In the bathroom, Charles splashed cold water on his face, feeling less vulnerable with the flimsy wooden shield of a door between himself and Liza. He couldn’t concentrate knowing that she was sitting there waiting for a response, tears in those big brown eyes he loved. Logically, he knew she was still waiting but at least now he didn’t have to watch her do it.

_She’s 41? How is that possible?!_ He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Part of him rejoiced that he hadn’t been falling for someone so much younger all this time; a difference of a few years made him feel far better than a difference of fifteen— did he have some sort of instinct about her age? 

Then there was the hurt, angry part that wanted to be incensed that she would do something potentially illegal and put herself and his company at risk. What the hell was she thinking? Why didn’t she tell him sooner? He would like to think he’d have allowed her to keep working at Empirical… probably. If not at the beginning, what about all this time he thought they were growing closer? She could have said something.

_Doesn’t she trust me? Jesus, can I trust_ her _?_ … _For fuck’s sake, she’s one of the faces behind Millennial and she isn’t even a member of the group it’s meant for! … But she does her job well anyway… and she had to take care of her daughter. Jesus, she has a daughter in college. College!_

It was incomprehensible. Suddenly overheated, he shrugged out of his jacket and reached to loosen a tie he wasn’t wearing because it was the weekend. 

_Okay, try to be logical about this…_

He shook his head. Logical? What does a man do when the woman he just professed his love to responds that she loves him too _but_ she’s been lying to him for over a year? There’s no playbook, no editing that could make this plot sensible.

And what was it she said… that this was the only thing she’d ever lied to him about? There was no way to be sure of that— it felt true but he didn’t want to give in to wishful thinking. She said she loved him— he wanted to believe that too. But the big lie about her age had necessitated hundreds of smaller lies and omissions that resulted in him not really knowing _her_ but an altered version that was _almost_ her.

_Right?_

Lies like her claim that she got into Berlin because of her babysitter.

Like one of her friend’s husbands had a bad back— it was her _own_ husband and that’s how she knew how to help him the day his back went out.

_Marriage Vacation_ — so similar her own story. _No wonder she identifies so much with Pauline…_

So many things about her that had never made sense became clearer now. The odd things she would say or do that seemed out of character. The way she showed an innate understanding of dealing with divorce. How amazing she was with his kids. That she seemed like such an old soul and far more capable than most 26 year olds. The problems she had with Josh who, he was pretty sure, was _actually_ in his 20s. Her saying she needed to tell him something that night in his office when they were _definitely_ about to have sex on his desk before the janitor came in.

Even now, the memory aroused him. He wished they’d actually been able to do it because now he had no idea if it would ever happen. His thoughts were racing in circles now… it was just so much to take in. 

He wanted her. He loved her.

But did he love the real Liza? Was the love itself real or, like her, was it an altered version that was _almost_ love?

His eyes burned. A headache was working it’s way around his skull.

Only one thing was clear. He wasn’t going to reach a satisfactory conclusion standing in Liza’s bathroom. He needed to go home, recharge, do something to clear his head, try to figure out where his emotions fell. It was impossible to do that while being in her space, surrounded by her things, her scent.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, half expecting her to be standing there with big, dark eyes full of tears. Eyes that grabbed at his gut every time.

But Liza was still on the couch, her head resting on one of the large pillows. He cleared his throat softly.

“Uh… hey.” It was their usual greeting, it seemed. 

She didn’t move. 

“Liza…” 

Still nothing. 

Alarmed, he walked around to the front of the couch. “Liza?”

She was fast asleep, jet-lag having caught up with her. 

Snoring softly, she looked young and somehow small. The darkened skin around her eyes and exhausted pallor of her skin gave the impression of fragility though he knew she was certainly anything but delicate. 

Though it defied all common sense, it was easy to see why she’d been able to pass as 26. Her face was mostly unlined and blemish free, no sign of sun damage that often marked the skin of older women. She was dressed comfortably in patterned sweatpants, a t-shirt with a kitten wearing sunglasses and a jeweled, brightly colored jacket. The style was in keeping any other millennial. It looked natural on her, not forced or out of place. Her long hair was smooth and lustrous against the pillow. He’d always wanted to run his hands through it, tug her head back and kiss her neck.

There was no denying her body was far more lithe and fit than most 40 year olds. To him, it was perfection. She was slender but not stick thin, curvy in the right places, and her legs... he loved her legs. Long and shapely, he often found himself visualizing them wrapped around his waist. When she wore heels, which was blessedly often, she was closer to his height than most women. She wasn’t the only tall woman to ever wear heels around him but he was never turned on by having anyone else so close to his eye line. He wanted her wearing heels and nothing else. 

There were probably aspects about her body she’d like to change; maybe stretch marks, since she’d had a baby. He blinked a few times, shoving the thought away for the moment.

Her very attractive legs were tucked up next to her, hands folded next to her cheek in the classic sleeping position marred only by the wad of tissues she held.

Even with the confusion and pain of the last hour, his pulse beat faster just looking at her.

Her face bore signs of tear tracks that hadn’t been there when he left the room. The worry lines between her eyebrows were brought out by her troubled expression. Under the lids, her eyes moved rapidly, making her eyebrows twitch. He wondered if she was dreaming a rerun of their conversation. 

As he watched, a fresh tear sparkled at the corner of her eye and began it’s slow roll down the curve of her cheek. She made a sound like a whimper, her chin quivering.

He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. As he did, the hot tangle in his stomach cooled, shifting from the front to back burner. It was all still there— anger, hurt, frustration, disbelief. There were more simultaneous emotions there than he’d experienced in some time. 

When Pauline left, anger dominated over anything else. 

But this… there were emotions here he didn’t have the words to describe. After all, he wasn’t a writer, just someone who could recognized good writing when he read it.

One thing broke through the haze, though. He didn’t care how old she was. He hadn’t been nearly as bothered about her age in some time. And if she could accept his girls, he could accept hers. The lie was uncomfortable; he didn’t like the dishonesty but her explanation had a ring of validity to it.

_The truth is more elastic than we can imagine. She was going to tell us the truth that day._

The rest they would figure out. He had no idea how— the uncertainty was kind of terrifying— but with Liza he knew he had to try because he _wanted_ to try. He wanted to be with her more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. Not trying meant losing her and never knowing what could have been.

The truth was that being with her — in a relationship with her — was always going to be complicated anyway. It would have to be kept secret because of their working relationship. He hadn’t known exactly how he’d deal with that either but that hadn’t stopped him from kissing her the first time.

_No one said love was easy_.

He glanced toward the room Liza had wheeled her suitcase into when they arrived. Stepping inside, he couldn’t help but smile. He had no idea who decorated the room but it was perfect for her. 

Aged wooden slats covered two walls. On top of them, asymmetrical framing provided staggered shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. Every nook contained books. There were dozens of them filling the niches along with personal items like photos and jewelry. Against one wall of shelves was her bed, simple but inviting. A dresser stood against another wall. Opposite the bed was regular drywall with a door to a closet. The fourth wall had two windows separated by original exposed brick. Even the view wasn’t bad.

There was something intimate about being in her space that humbled him. The apartment was clearly Maggie’s— very artsy, bold, flashy but tasteful— but this room was all Liza. Quiet elegance and style. Feminine without being frilly.

Fittingly, she was surrounded by books here. The familiar smell of paper and ink mixed with subtle perfume drifted in the air.

He draped his jacket over the top of her suitcase, noticing as he did a framed picture of a young blonde on the dresser. She had Liza’s smile and cheekbones and he recognized her expression. With a jolt, he realized who she was. 

_Her daughter. Caitlin_. _How is it possible she has a college aged daughter?_

He sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly, purposefully turning to the bed to pull the covers back. There wasn’t enough room in his brain to take that in at the moment. 

When he returned to the living room, Liza hadn’t moved but her face was far more restful. He bent down and gently worked his arms under her, hoping his back would cooperate in the endeavor. Fortunately, Liza was lighter than he expected and fit nicely in his embrace. 

As he stepped toward the bedroom, she snuggled into his chest, rubbing her face against his shirt. Directly following, she loosed a low, deep, contented hum that made him want to wake her up so he could then take his time figuring out how to coax that sound from her again. 

_Not so far gone that I can’t get turned on. That’s a relief, I suppose,_ he thought sarcastically.

For now, though, all of that would have to wait. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently, pulling the spread over her legs, tucking her in much like he did his daughters. As he slid the cover up, her hand shot out and gripped his shirtsleeve. Absently, he noticed the color of her fingernails had changed again.

“Wait, wait— don’t,” she groaned, barely awake. “Don’t go.” His lips twitched. The loopy mush of her words reminded him of visiting her in the hospital except this time her ‘piggies’ were already covered. Just as it had then, the touch of her hand made his heart flutter. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone who was mostly asleep. “Please?”

“I won’t,” he whispered, smiling. “I’ll stay.”

“Yeah?” Sleepy and soft, her eyes were unintentionally sultry bedroom eyes that drew him in. He had to kiss her. 

Like prince charming, he rested one hip on the bed and leaned over. His lips touched hers softly to keep from waking her further.

“Yeah.”

“Mmmm’kay,” she slurred, smiling as her eyes closed again.

_Oh my god, she’s cute_.

Fortunately, he hadn’t planned to leave just yet anyway. After settling her, he’d intended to write her a note reassuring her that he still wanted this but he needed some time. There was still a lot to talk about. 

The desire to leave was gone, though, evaporated while he watched her dream and kissed her back to sleep. If anything, he wanted to be here when she woke up. In spite of it all, he wasn’t ready to be away from her now that he knew she returned his feelings. He craved her presence after so many instances when time with her had been cut short by their various obligations. Being around her had always made him feel somehow more whole than he was without her.

Maybe all he needed was some quiet to begin sorting through his feelings. The girls were spending time with Pauline at her sister’s house and he hadn’t planned anything beyond this meeting with Liza because he didn’t know what would happen afterward.

Of all the things he’d imagined could happen after they talked, a thousand guesses wouldn’t have gotten him closer to the emotional rollercoaster she’d taken him on. Most of his scenarios contained far happier, steamier endings.

So he removed his shoes, pulled his shirt free from his pants, and removed his belt, trying not to think about the removal of clothing he’d imagined in most of those scenarios. He lay down next to her on top of the covers and looked up at the ceiling. Liza shifted next to him, rolling until their sides touched, her cheek coming to rest on his shoulder as she instinctively sought physical contact.

The familiar long, slow pull in his belly made him laugh silently at himself. How could something so innocent arouse him? _Because it’s Liza_ , he knew. Of course, it didn’t help that his emotions were still all over the place, spinning in a murky vortex just cloudy enough he couldn’t identify anything.

_No. It’s definitely because it’s Liza._

How many times had he battled back the same feelings when he wasn’t emotional? Sometimes all it took was hearing her voice.

Though he’d fully intended to use the quiet time to begin sorting through the confusion, he soon felt his mind sinking into sleep. There was no control to be had over it right now— he was too overwhelmed to do more than let everything drift. The conversation had stolen more of his energy than he realized. 

His last thought before yielding to the dark was that for once he hadn’t shut down in the face of an emotional situation.

He’d given in.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is a work in progress and will probably change a lot over time because I tend to edit obsessively so check back and reread if needed. If it seems out of order, it's purposeful. Let me know what you think!  
> Leave a comment, if you please!
> 
> Title and chapter titles inspired by Beautiful Thing by Grace Vanderwaal because lets face it, she's awesome.


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